


we broke the mold and made our own kind of cool

by thewolvescalledmehome



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Breakfast Club AU, F/M, Minor Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 02:17:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11545377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewolvescalledmehome/pseuds/thewolvescalledmehome
Summary: Breakfast Club AU.Jon as Bender, Sansa as Claire, Arya as Alison, Gendry as Andrew, and Sam as Brian.





	1. Sansa

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing.

Sansa wasn’t sure which was worse: the fact that she had to come to school at seven am on a Saturday or the fact that somehow Margaery got out of it. It wasn’t as though she had skipped school on her own. Margaery had gone with her—in fact it had been Margaery’s idea in the first place, but Sansa was the one stuck with a Saturday detention, while Margaery’s dad was stuck paying for new biology textbooks. Sansa daren’t propose that to her father though. He’d sign her up for extra detentions himself for asking.

Sansa was surprised to see other people walking into the building. _At least I won’t be alone_ , she thought but when she saw who was passing her car to go into the school and suddenly that thought wasn’t reassuring. Black combat boots she could hear through her car door, black skinny jeans, and a leather jacket, wild hair that announced just how untamable he was. She shouldn’t have been surprised to see him at a Saturday detention. She didn’t know his name but she knew he was trouble. Everyone knew he was trouble.

She waited until he was in the building before getting out of the car and heading in herself. She didn’t want to risk being alone with someone like him.

* * *

 

She was the second one to arrive to the library. A large boy with a round face was sitting at one of the tables already looking unnecessarily nervous. She took the seat closest to the door, just in case there was a chance for escape at some point in the eight hours she was forced to be here.

It was a moment before she realized she shouldn’t be the second person. She saw someone else head into the building, but she couldn’t say that it wasn’t surprising that he wasn’t here yet, given what she’d heard about him. He was probably off getting high or something before enduring the torture.

The next person who walked in she was actually surprised to see. Gendry Waters walked in, looking as she felt. Neither of them belonged here. While he wasn’t actually a friend, he was a friendly face and she felt relief when he took the seat at the other end of her table. Someone else from her crowd was here. He wasn’t popular, not quite, but he was the reason the field half of track and field was suddenly a sport that had unofficial cheerleaders. Given who else she saw come in, she would gladly spend the next eight hours with him.

Two more people showed up before the detention officially started. Trouble personified and a short girl with stringy hair that hung into her eyes.

“I’m impressed that all of you made it on time,” Principal Baelish announced as he walked in. Sansa saw his eyes go to the person sitting behind her, as if that comment was intended for them, but that didn’t make sense. The boy sitting behind her looked like he was terrified to be here. “It is now 7:03. You have seven hours and fifty-seven minutes to examine the life choices you have made to bring you here.” Sansa hardly thought that was fair—it wasn’t _her_ life choices that had brought her here. It was Margaery. “You will not sleep, you will not talk, you will not move.” Again, Sansa thought he seemed to be addressing the person sitting behind her. “What you will do is write an essay. You are going to describe who you are in a thousand words.” He started passing out papers and pens then.

“Is this a test?”

The voice gave Sansa pause. She highly doubted that voice came from the round-faced boy. She turned half around under the guise of watching Baelish pass out the papers. The round-faced boy was sitting on the other side and not behind her, though she was sure he had been. If she turned just slightly more, she could see a dark mass at the table behind her. She faced front again quickly.

“This is an essay,” Baelish continued. “That means a thesis, multiple paragraphs, conclusion statements. Do you understand me, Mr. Snow?”

“Understood,” came the voice behind her.

“I hope you all learn your lesson today and I’ll not see you back here again.”

“Sit? I…” a voice squeaked and Sansa guessed _that_ was the one that belonged to the round-faced boy.

“Not now, Mr. Tarly. My office is across the hall. I will be able to hear and see everything. Any questions?”

“Yeah, I got one. Are you aware you’re called Creepyfinger?” Snow asked and Sansa stiffened. She didn’t know anyone else knew that nickname for him. Baelish had played some sport when he went to high school and _proudly_ earned the nickname Littlefinger, a nickname he still used. Once, last year, her and her friends noticed how, when he was on hallway duty, he would always place himself outside the girls’ bathrooms. They started calling him Creepyfinger then, but she didn’t know it had spread beyond her group of friends.

“You’ll get that answer next Saturday, Snow.” Baelish left then, but not before staring down Snow. She doubted it was as effective as he thought it was.

Baelish was only gone for a few minutes before Snow started making a hacking noise and a small part of her wanted to turn, see if he was all right but then she heard something being spit into the trash can and regretted that notion.

“How serious do you think he was about hearing and seeing everything?” Snow asked.

Sansa glanced at Gendry, seeing how he would react. He looked irritated but he was ignoring him. Sansa tried to do the same. That was until he sent his wadded up paper sailing at her head.

“Hey, hey, Red. What’d ya say we how much noise we can make before he hears us?” Sansa felt a sickening blush curling up her neck but didn’t turn around. “You can even watch if that’s your thing,” he added and Gendry whipped around.

“You get even close to her and I’ll kill you.”

“Oh, come on pretty boy, don’t pretend like you wouldn’t enjoy it.”

“Leave us alone.”

“Guys, maybe we should just write our papers.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You’re right. We might scar you.”

Sansa picked up her pen, intending to do just as the Tarly boy suggested. She heard a snort from behind her but didn’t turn or comment. He could think what he liked but he knew nothing about her. He wouldn’t understand her even if he did. People like them would never understand each other. She just had to get through to day and she’d never have to think about him again. Just seven hours and fifteen minutes to go. She could do this.


	2. Jon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going to be switching between Jon and Sansa's POVs, but I promise there will be more Gendry/Arya in later chapters.

Detention Jon could have dealt with. He would have passed the time by sleeping the way he had other Saturday detentions. He wouldn’t have had fun, but it would’ve been eight hours of uninterrupted quiet. He could have spent this detention the same way, but eight hours with a prissy princess like the one in front of him was too good to pass up. He’d seen her in the halls, walking as if she owned them, friends always flanking her as if she was too good for the general public. She wasn’t too good for detention though.

Jon couldn’t help but wonder what got her in here. What got her in here _alone_. None of her little handmaids were around to protect her from the peasants now.

“So, are you two dating? Is that how you both ended up in here? Creepyfinger caught you hooking up under the bleachers?” The princess’s shoulders twitched but that was the only reaction he got. “Jock-strap, you’ve gotta tell me, what does a princess like her taste like? Diamond infused rose oil?”

“Fuck off.” Princess reached over to the jock then.

“Ignore him. He’s just trying to make you angry.”

“Yeah, listen to your girlfriend. She’s good at ignoring me. Aside from the fact she blushes every time I talk you’d think she didn’t know I exist.”

“I’m pretending that you don’t,” she snapped, turning around for the first time.

“You wound me.” Jon put a hand over his heart and he smiled at the princess’s eye roll. He was getting to her.

“What’d you say we close the door? See if the princess could teach us a thing or to about how to make a girl moan?” Jon got up, coming around to sit on the railing near the princess.

“Baelish said to leave the door open.” She was better at ignoring him than he thought. It was the jock that couldn’t help but respond to everything he said.

“Baelish also said we were to write essays, but I don’t see that you’ve started yours.”

“Look, I have a meet coming up and I’d really rather not have to miss it to be back in here with you. Not that you’d understand. I doubt you’ve ever joined a thing in your life.”

“Oh, and that makes me a shitty person?”

“You know why people like you refuse to join anything?” This was from Princess. He grinned in anticipation at whatever upper class knowledge she was about to bestow on him.

“Oh, do tell.”

“You’re scared.”

“Wow, you’ve hit it on the head, Princess. You think the only reason someone doesn’t join one of your stupid clubs is because they’re _scared_.” He wanted to point out the real reason people like him _couldn’t_ join anything: money. You had to pay to do that crap.

“You are. You’re scared of failure. Scared of not being accepted.”

“Well, that sounds like you’re saying that it would be _my_ fault for not being accepted. Not because you lot are all judgmental fucks.”

“I’m in the history club.” Jon turned, shocked at this new voice in the conversation. The fat boy had his hand half raised as if this was class.

“I’m sorry, what now?”

“I’m in the history club. And the Latin club. And the Gamer’s club.”

“I see. Red, are you or Boy-Wonder here in any of those clubs?”

“Those are academic clubs,” she protested. “They’re not the same as other clubs.”

“I’m sure he would disagree with you.” The boy looked like he wanted to but was too scared. “All right, how about we have some fun?” Jon pushed off the rail, going for the door.

“Principal Baelish said to leave the door open!”

“It’s not my fault if it closes on its own, is it?”

Jon dragged a chair over so he could reach the hinge of the door. The top screw was still loose from when he was in here last weekend. With quick fingers, the screw was out and the door was shutting on its own.

“That’s technically school property,” the round-faced boy told him solemnly. Jon shrugged. He put enough time and sweat into the building that they owed him at least that much.

“GODDAMN IT! Why is the door closed?” He could hear Creepyfinger even from his seat. Jon fought to control his smirk. “Snow, why is the door closed?”

“It swung shut on it’s own, sir.” Jon kept his head down, letting his hair fall to hide his eyes. Creepyfinger turned to the princess then, and Jon felt a nervous pit form in his stomach. She was going to sell him out.

“Why, Ms. Stark?”

“He’s telling the truth. It closed on it’s own.” Jon couldn’t control the way his head jerked up when she said that.

“How could it have closed on its own?”

“It’s an old building. The hinges probably aren’t what they used to be,” Jon answered before someone else could jump in and say something stupid.

“It just closed,” Jock strap added. Creepyfinger looked to the back of the room, to the girl who hadn’t spoken yet. She just glared daggers back at him.

“What’d you do to it, Snow?”

“Nothing, sir.”

“You’re telling me if I search you right now, I wouldn’t find a thing on you belonging to the school?” _Nothing you could prove_ , Jon thought.

“Pardon, Principal Baelish, but he didn’t do anything. The door closed on its own,” Princess jumped in. When Creepyfinger turned toward her, Jon stared at her questioningly.

“You know, your mother would’ve never protected scum like him,” he muttered to her and Jon’s fist clenched, but not at _scum._ It was at the way Creepyfinger looked at her and how her shoulders curved in.

Creepyfinger abandoned his mission and went to prop the door open, but the door was too heavy for the chair he put against it. Jon decided it was more fun to let him figure it out on his own.

“Waters, come here. Help me move this.” He started to push a magazine rack into the doorway. Jock strap started to help him, until Jon couldn’t resist saying something.

“Wouldn’t that be a violation of the fire code?” Creepyfinger turned to glare at him but instructed Waters to move it back anyway.

“Don’t be so smart, Snow. You’d be mine if your friends weren’t here.” Jon wanted to point out these people were the farthest from his friends, but they did just cover for him. He couldn’t understand why they did that. Why she did that.

“I maintain that the door closed on its own. You’ve got nothing on me.”

“We’ll see about that. You’ve got another Saturday.”

“Oh, dearie me.”

“That’s another.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t have a meet coming up, isn’t it?”

“It is, because for the rest for the rest of your days, you’re mine. Even after you graduate. _If_ you graduate. Instead of joining some gang, you’ll be here.” Jon opened his mouth but something caught his eye. The Stark princess was motioning for him to stop, blue eyes pleading. There was worry in them.

“I’m sure we’ll have fun together,” he said anyway and Creepyfinger’s lip curled at his sarcasm.

“Keep it up. I’ll have you so long you won’t be able to produce any more bastards like yourself. Do society a favor.” Jon’s fist clenched again as he tried to maintain his temper.

“You think I give a shit?” He glared into the principal’s beady eyes, hoping his anger hid any other emotion that threatened to break through.

“That’s another.”

“Do you even know how many Saturdays are left until graduation?”

“Eleven, including today,” the round-face boy interjected. Jon almost smiled.

“Stay out of it, Tarly. I will have you until I’m done with you.” The satisfied smirk was enough to make Jon regret saying half of it. He was angry, at Baelish, at himself, at the world.

“I’m thrilled.” He couldn’t stop egging him on. Jon had to see him break. One of them would have to at some point.

“I’m sure that’s what you want your little friends here to think. That you’re some tough bad ass that doesn’t give a shit about anyone, including yourself. That’s now how you impress people, Snow. That’s how you end up in the gutter.” Jon had to look away from him then. He rolled his head towards the ceiling like he wasn’t listening but really what he was doing was trying to compose his face. He couldn’t let them see him weak. “All right, I’m right outside those doors. I hear anything else, I’m calling parents. Except yours, Snow. We all know they won’t care.” He turned to leave and this time Jon couldn’t control the rage that boiled inside him.

“Fuck you!” he yelled just as the door slammed shut.

Jon couldn’t sit any longer. He had to move. He was too full of adrenalin to sit still. He shoved out of his chair and stalked to the stacks over on the side. He needed to be alone.

Jon wandered the shelves as he’s done on countless other Saturdays. Typically, he would bunker down in the stacks with a book and actually spend his detention doing something. He couldn’t do that this time. Not with the other idiots in here with him. He couldn’t risk them telling Creepyfinger. _They didn’t about the door_ , he thought. He didn’t understand why they had done that—why they had covered for him. They knew nothing about him—he suspected they all hated him, wished he wasn’t in there with them, and yet they saved him. He couldn’t understand why.


	3. Sansa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up writing two chapters tonight, so here's the second one.
> 
> Also, I couldn't write Jon destroying books. That seemed way too OOC even for an AU, so I have this instead.

Sansa was pretty sure she’d never been so bored in her life. Snow had disappeared into the stacks, Gendry had folded his paper into a football and was launching it off the desk. Tarly looked like he was actually trying to write his paper, and the quiet girl in back was busy working on something. She doubted it was the essay though. Sansa looked for something to do, but beyond watching the others or writing her essay there was nothing to do.

She wondered where Snow went. She wondered if it was a good idea to go look for him. He had seemed more upset than angry and after everything Baelish had said to him, she didn’t blame him for either. She thought the principal was far out of line, but what could she do? Snow obviously didn’t appreciate the little help she offered and she wanted as little as possible to do with Baelish. The way he looked at her creeped her out and every time he got a chance he would bring up the fact he went to school with her mother. That they had dated. She suspected that he was still in love with her, but that didn’t do her any good. It didn’t do Snow any good either.

Sansa couldn’t count the number of times she almost got up to look for him, but she was scared. He wouldn’t want her to come after him and she couldn’t imagine the look she’d get from Gendry if she did.

Sansa put her head down, frustrated with herself, with Baelish, with society. There was nothing she could do. She wasn’t sure how long she sat with her head down before she fell asleep. 

* * *

 

She woke up to Baelish standing in front of her and her instinct was to be terrified.

“I said, who needs to use the restroom?” She heard the rustle of fabric as everyone raised their hands, including herself.

* * *

 

Snow had reappeared with the rest of them sometime when she was sleeping and he looked like he had before Baelish had come in. He was now at the shelf closest to them, rearranging the books.

“That’s very mature, making the librarian’s work harder,” Gendry called to him. Sansa thought it was an innocent thing to do and didn’t really see the harm in it. There were far worse things he could be doing. Snow shrugged, obviously ignoring him. “Are you going to the party tonight?” he asked her instead. She shrugged.

“My mum said I’m grounded tonight, but Dad told her they’d talk about it depending on how today went. I think they had an argument about it.”

“Who do you like more?” Snow asked, climbing to sit on the railing as he had before.

“What?”

“If they were going to split up, who would you want to live with?” Sansa stared at him in horror. Her parents weren’t going to split up. They had one argument. That didn’t mean anything. Her parents loved each other.

“They wouldn’t.” She wasn’t sure if she was reassuring herself or answering his question. “They love each other. They just don’t agree on how to raise me. Mum wants to protect me at all costs and Dad wants me to learn and make my own mistakes,” she shrugged.

“Oh, boohoo,” came from the back. Sansa whipped around, surprised to see the girl with stringy hair looking at her.

“Shut up,” she muttered when she couldn’t think of something else to say.

“What a terrible situation,” Gendry commented and Sansa felt a twinge of hurt at the sarcasm in his voice.

“I never said it was.” Snow glanced at her and must’ve seen the slight flush on her cheeks because he was turning to Gendry.

“Jock strap, do you get along with your parents?”

“What’s it matter? You’re going to have some witty comeback either way.”

“Well, if you said yes I would’ve called you a liar and that’s not all that witty, is it?” Sansa turned her head to her shoulder to hide her smirk. It was almost as if he was standing up for her. She didn’t like the look she saw in Gendry’s eye though when she looked back. He didn’t look all that different than Snow did when Baelish kept antagonizing him.

“If were weren’t at school, I’d kick your ass,” he threatened, stepping closer to Snow.

“For that comment?” Snow looked incredulous.

“That, and all the ones you made before.”

“Oh, I’m terrified.” Sansa saw the other boy—Tarly get up then, trying to wedge himself between them.

“Now, I’m sure…” he started, placing a hand on either of their shoulders. They both shrugged him off. “I don’t get along with my dad at all. He keeps trying to turn me into something I’m not…” he began again and Gendry shoved past him, away from Snow. Sansa was almost relieved at that action.

“Don’t worry. Every parent would love to have a kid like you, I’m sure. Parents always love the nerds,” Snow said, patting Tarly’s shoulder. Sansa wasn’t sure if that was meant to be a compliment or not. The look on the boy’s face told her he wasn’t sure either.

“That’s not—”

“Look, there’s probably times where you don’t get along, like when your mum forgets to wash your nerd costumes, but face it. Your problems are a hell of a lot better than most people’s, because you’re a nerd.”

“Why do you have to insult people all the time?” Gendry asked. Sansa thought he looked relatively calmer at least, but she still didn’t like where this was headed.

“I’m not. I’m being honest. Someone here should.”

“He’s got a name.”

“Yeah? What’s his name, jock strap?” Sansa knew she shouldn’t be amused by the way Snow turned it around, by the way Gendry floundered for a second.

“What’s your name?” he asked the boy finally.

“Sam.” Snow looked satisfied with whatever he had been trying to accomplish and started back for the railing he had been sitting on.

“What’s your name?” she found herself asking when he walked in front of her. Baelish had called him Snow, but that didn’t tell her a lot. He wasn’t fast enough to hide the slight surprise that widened his eyes.

“What’s yours?”

“Sansa.”

“San-sah?” he repeated, drawing it out. She wouldn’t admit how much she liked hearing him say her name.

“Sansa. It’s a Northern name.”

“Well, it’s certainly a girl’s name.”

“What?”

“There are two types of names for women. Girl’s names and women’s names. Girl’s names are all pretty, simple. Names you give princesses. Innocent little girls have names like Sansa. Women’s names are the names you whisper in their ear and cry out while they go down on you.”

“I’m not an innocent little girl,” she retorted. She had to. He made her sound like—feel like—she was five years old.

“No? You’re not innocent?”

“No. No I’m not.” She hated how she sounded like a petulant child, arguing with a parent.

“Are you a virgin?” She wished she could fight against the blush that rose up her cheeks, giving her away. She didn’t answer. “I’d bet that you are.”

“Shut up.” It was a stupid and childish remark but Sansa couldn’t think of anything better to say.

“Have you ever been kissed?” She rolled her eyes at that.

“Yes, I’ve been kissed.” Her tone came out haughtier than she intended it to. Snow smirked, leaning towards her.

“What about second base? Hands up your shirt, over your bra, laying on the sofa…” She wished she wasn’t so fair skinned that every emotion was visible. His grey eyes were boring into hers and she had to look away. “Have you ever been kissed up your legs, so slowly you thought you’d die if he didn’t just hurry up, felt his breath over your wet underwear?” She dared to look at him again and couldn’t look away. No one had ever looked at her the way he was.

“Leave her alone.” Sansa broke eye contact again then, turning to look at Gendry. She could feel that Snow was still looking at her. “Leave her alone, asshole.”

“What’re you going to do about it?” Snow started for him and Gendry met him in the middle of the tables, chest to chest.

“Keep you away from her.”

“Oh yeah? How?”

“Like this.” Gendry put him in some type of hold then, pinning his arms and forcing him to the floor. Sansa couldn’t help the gasp that escaped. She wasn’t sure who it was for. She noticed Snow wasn’t struggling that much though, as if he let Gendry take him down. After a few second, Gendry let him back up, a small smile on his face, as if proud of what he’d done. He hadn’t noticed what she had.

“I’d take you in a real fight,” Snow said once he was standing. Gendry laughed.

“Why don’t you try it?”

“’Cause if I hurt you your parents would sue me and I’d have to pay for the medical bills and I don’t really want to do that.” Snow shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. Sansa wouldn’t doubt that Snow could take him in a fight. Gendry was big but Snow was faster—even she could see that, though she tried not to notice.

“Whatever you say.”

Sansa saw the look on Snow’s face shift, face hardening. She thought he had looked hardened and tough from the time she saw him walk into the building hours early but now she realized that was nothing. That was playing tough. This was actually what he looked like when he wanted to look dangerous.

She noticed why too—from his pocket he pulled a small knife. Gendry didn’t notice until it _schwinked_ open. Snow didn’t say anything, didn’t change his expression, just pushed the tip of the blade into the desk nearest him. Gendry and Snow were facing each other again and Sansa just wished they would stop. This pissing contest was unnecessary and some part of her felt like it was her fault.

“We’re going to stop whatever little game you’re playing right now, because you’re the only one having fun. You don’t look at her, you don’t talk to her, and don’t you dare think about her, do you understand?”

Snow worked his jaw and Sansa’s eyes quickly looked for the blade, scared he might actually use it. She saw it just before it disappeared into the girl’s purse. _That’s probably the safest place for it._ The girl was the only one not involved in this stupid drama.

“I think Sansa can determine that for herself, can’t you?” Snow looked at her then, judging, waiting to see what side she would choose.

“It’s fine, Gendry. He’s just trying to get a reaction out of me. I’m not going to give him the satisfaction,” she murmured, putting a hand over his arm. Gendry looked like he wanted to argue with her disagree, but he stormed off instead.

Once he was out of earshot, Snow came towards her. She couldn’t read his eyes, but he sat back down in the chair he’d been sitting in behind her.

“My name’s Jon,” he said only loud enough that she could hear. She was turned back around, so no one saw the small smile that softened her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you know how glad I am that they finally know each other's names? I wrote "Jon" and "Sansa" so many times before noticing and had to go back and change them all


End file.
